An Urban Fairy Tale
by Ms.Informed13
Summary: Rachel was going to NYADA for class when the unexpected happened and she finds herself in a sticky situation. "The man gave Rachel a hard push to the stomach, and the wind was knocked out of her lungs and she toppled backwards into the subway tracks. Her back hit one of the tracks and she was stunned for a moment before she came to her senses and tried to climb out." Faberry fluff
1. Chapter 1

**A/N- Quick little one-shot that hopped into my mind and just threw it together, enjoy!**

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Rachel nodded her head along to the beat playing through her headphones. She was on the way into NYADA for another long day of dance classes, and there was nothing more she wanted to do more than get on the subway, relax for a minute, and try to figure out what she was going to do that weekend. A friend at NYADA had gotten her an audition for a small local play, but she still hadn't found someone to cover for her at the diner.

The brunette had just missed the previous subway and it was no telling how long it would be until the next one came by. There weren't a ton of people on the platform with her, it was too early for the morning rush, but too late for people coming home from night shifts. Rachel scrolled through the messages on her iPhone, completely ignoring the other travelers.

For that reason she didn't notice the young man dressed in all black enter the platform and take up a stance just behind her. After taking a quick look around, the man grabbed Rachel by the upper arm and spun her around while pushing her back towards the edge of the platform.

"Give me your phone and wallet, and we won't have any trouble." he said roughly.

Rachel, however, was never one to give in without a fight, "No! Let me go!"

The man was having none of it, and clearly wanted to get out of there as soon as possible, "Just hand it over!" He roughly grabbed her purse and phone. When she tried to fight back and retain a grasp on her bag, a struggle incurred.

The man gave Rachel a hard push to the stomach, and the wind was knocked out of her lungs and she toppled backwards into the subway tracks. Her back hit one of the tracks and she was stunned for a moment before she came to her senses and tried to climb out.

Her heart was pounding as she tried to climb up the side of the ledge, "Someone help me!" she cried loudly. Rachel was too short to reach the edge and nobody seemed to notice she had gone over, "I was pushed in, someone help me!" she screamed.

An old woman appeared over the side, "Don't worry honey, there's some strong men on the way over!" she said with a reassuring smile, _how the hell is anyone calm at a time like this?_

A couple of men appeared shortly after reaching down to her, but she was too short. In the distance, the train whistle blew and Rachel swore she could see the light of the subway coming in the tunnel, "Comeon! I can't reach!" She yelled frustrated that she was going to die at twenty because she wouldn't give into a mugging.

Out of nowhere, another figure dropped into the tracks just to the left of Rachel. The person ran forward and without a word to Rachel, grabbed the small woman around the waist. The train could clearly been seen coming towards them to the station, Rachel's eyes widened as she turned them down to see who had jumped in to lift her out of the tracks.

The hood on the figure's dark jacket had fallen off and Rachel was met with an intense hazel gaze. She felt the men who couldn't reach her earlier latch onto her shoulders and drag her up onto the platform. Shortly after, the brunette found herself sitting on the platform with one of the men standing over her asking if she was alright.

The person who had pulled her out of way to the train was pulling herself up. Her blonde hair was in disarray and her cheeks were slightly flushed, but her actions were absurdly graceful considering the train arrived at the station seconds later, filling the space she had just vacated.

The mysterious woman shot one glance at Rachel to make sure she was alright and swept from the subway, not even getting on the train. Rachel brokenly boarded the train, the man who had helped pull her up was still trying to talk to her, asking what had happened that she fell in in the first place. But she didn't hear him.

When she told her roommate, Kurt, about the run in later that day, he hardly believed her. He said it sounded like a 'urban fairy tale' and that she was probably hallucinating. But the bruise across Rachel's back from the initial fall left a reminder of what had happened.

In the weeks that followed every morning when Rachel would take the subway to her morning dance classes, she would scan the faces of the others on the platform for her blonde savior. She had yet to see the woman but she still retained the hope that one day the mysterious woman would appear.

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**Hope you enjoyed it, What did you think!? **


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, written for popular demand- here's the Quinn's point of view, hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the reviews:)**

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Quinn was behind schedule. Normally the blonde was prompt, on time, professional, and painfully prepared. But then again, nothing was normal in her life.

After dropping out of highschool at seventeen and getting her GED, Quinn used her savings to buy a one way train ticket to New York and applied to the police academy. Despite her unusual educational track, Quinn passed the entrance exams with flying colors and was admitted without a second thought. She graduated top of her class with a concentration in undercover and special operations and was immediately assigned to one of the city's most prestigious precincts.

She hadn't talked to her parents in five years and had no intentions of changing that. Quinn knew for a fact that they would never approve of her life now, and she couldn't care less. When she was younger, her mother would always tell her, "Quinnie, use you brain and common sense is your best friend. I would far rather have you here next to me than be told you _were_ a hero." Granted her mother was a bit paranoid and expected the worst from every situation, but still. There was not way that being a cop was on the 'Judy Fabray approved career' list.

Her father was another story.

He would just hate the fact that his little girl was getting paid to pretend to be a druggie, a prostitute, a gang member, or any combination therein.

Currently, Quinn was working as a vice officer. She was supposed to be on her way to at a drug deal in fifteen minutes as part of a long term bust, slowly infiltrating a local gang to cut off the supply of drugs at the top. She wasn't supposed to be running late, half sprinting down the steps to the subway station and trying to catch the train pulling out of the station.

She hurumphed her annoyance and crossed her arms, checking the cheap plastic watch that was part of her 'druggie outfit' as she liked to call it, she saw that if she got on the next train she would barely make it there on time. She shot a glance up and down the platform, pulling her hood tighter around her face. The platform was mainly empty, an old woman sitting contentedly, a couple of businessmen in suits who must have been going into work early, and a young woman standing near the edge of the platform absorbed in her phone.

Out of nowhere, Quinn saw a young man wearing the same dark jeans and hoodie as she was approach the woman on the platform. Her hand reflexively grasped the gun she had tucked securely in the holster at the small of her back, but she did not move just yet. She couldn't take the chance that the man was connected to the gang she was infiltrating- they were known for muggigngs to supplement their income- and there was no evidence the girl was in danger, yet.

Shortly a scuffle broke out, and before Quinn could react, the woman had disappeared from the platform and the man was running in the opposite direction. The blonde stood back and waited for the men to move into action like they should, but they didn't even notice the brunette woman's fall, so Quinn took matters into her own hands. She saw the old woman go to comfort the fallen girl, but knew she wouldn't be able to pull her up so she approached the business men.

"Hey! There's a girl fell in the tracks!" she shouted, pointing to where the old woman was crouched down, "Go get her!" she prompted when they gave her confused looks.

When the woman in the tracks yelled again for help it seemed to make the men snap back into reality and they rushed to pull her out. Quinn watched from her spot down the platform where the train was coming from, she could see the light in the distance and cursed herself as the men just reached uselessly for the fallen brunette's hand, not making the needed effort to save her.

"Have to do fucking everything myself," Quinn muttered as she rolled up her sleeves and jumped from the platform, landing lightly she sprinted to the woman and grasped her securely around the waist to lift her up to the men. The train could clearly be seen now, thundering towards the pair. When Quinn tore her gaze away from the impending train, she was met with the intense brown gaze of the woman that was being dragged upwards. The blonde froze for a moment, trapped by the woman's stare, but just as quickly as the contact was established, it was broken by the woman disappearing over the edge of the platform.

When Quinn shot a look over her shoulder she could read the numbers on the train hurtling at her and mustering all her strength, she jumped up and hauled herself back onto the platform, the men from earlier were more preoccupied making sure the brunette woman was alright. Quinn made it over in just enough time to feel the wind of the train rustle through her hair. Her chest was heaving and she felt for the hood that had fallen off her head and pulled it back on, shooting one last look to ensure that the brunette was alright, Quinn left from the subway. She couldn't breath in the thick soupy air and she needed to get out.

Once she hit the street level, she started running. Trying to clear her head. Quinn couldn't tell if the adrenaline pumping through her veins was from the intensity of the situation she had just been in -almost getting hit by a train- or from the intensity of the brunette's gaze. She didn't stop running until she reached the street that the subway was supposed to take her to, she was five minutes late for the drug deal, but it still hadn't happened by the time she got there.

The distributor who was her contact smiled when he saw her, red faced and panting, come up beside him, "It's about time, chica. I thought you had wimped out on me."

Quinn just nodded her head and followed when he indicated they were moving to a new location for the deal. The day started off full of adrenaline and she was firing on all cylinders until the clock struck midnight later that night. Her dreams were plagued by images of the brunette.

She tossed and turned, unable to get any rest. She felt like Cinderella at the ball, no matter what she did, she couldn't get herself to go back to the subway, muster up the courage look for the brunette. She was living in an urban fairy tale that she couldn't write the end to.

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**Hope you liked it! Tell me what you thought.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey y'all, thanks for the encouraging reviews! This is officially a multi-chap fic in progress, though this makes my fourth story in progress at the same time so updates might be a bit of a wait, but I'll do my best :)**

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One week to the day had passed since Quinn's encounter in the subway, and she still hadn't returned to that station. Each morning, she would take the three block walk to the next stop and then take the train either to the police station or to her meetings with the gang. At first Quinn tried to reason with herself that she wasn't avoiding a run in with the brunette, she was getting in some much needed exercise and attempting not to blow her cover as a cop should another robbery take place.

But one week full of double takes whenever she saw heads of wavy brown hair bobbing through crowded New York streets, and Quinn could no longer convince herself that her reasons for avoiding the station were strictly professional.

It was a slow day in the precinct when she came to this conclusion so Quinn spent most of her morning sitting at her desk, neglecting the cases she had yet to write final reports on, and instead trying to come up with a viable plan of action. She couldn't very well walk up to the brunette and say, 'Hello, my name is Quinn Fabray. I'm not sure if you remember, but last week I jumped in front of a train and pulled you out the subway train tracks.'

The blonde was jolted roughly from her day dreaming when one of the other cops- a more experienced man whom she had a few run ins with over the past few months, especially when she first arrived- dropped a cardboard box roughly on her desk.

"Earth to Fabray?" He questioned obnoxiously, she shot him a glare but he pressed on with her full attention, "Earlier today a couple of uniforms picked up some members of the gang you and your team are working on. These are their effects," he pointed to the box, "thought you ought to go through it, save me some time doing it since it is your operation after all."  
Quinn nodded dismissively at him, "Thanks Karofsky. I can handle it from here."

He lumbered back across the building to his area and heavily sat down, Quinn watching him the whole time as he went back to lazily scanning over something on his computer screen, 'pathetic' Quinn thought to herself, but turned her attention to the box before her.  
The first few items she pulled out were nothing unusual, a couple of wallets, a comb, some cigarettes, and chewing gum. But as she got deeper into the box she pulled out an oddly familiar purse. Quinn couldn't quite pinpoint where she had seen the bag before, so she examined it more closely. Pulling it out of its evidence bag, she carefully rifled through it. Inside Quinn found lipstick, bobby pins, breath mints, hair spray, floss, a myriad of personal hygiene products -all things not likely being carried by a street level drug dealer- and 'bingo!' a wallet.

When she removed the drivers liscence to try to identify the owner of the bag, Quinn was suddenly hit with the realization of where she had seen the bag before.

Smiling up at Quinn from the thin plastic card, the brunette from the subway was just as stunning in the photo as she was when Quinn lifted her out of the way of the train.

Quinn just shook her head, it was as though some fairy godmother were sitting back and laughing at her genius.

The blonde looked through recent incident reports and verified that one Rachel Berry had reported being mugged in the subway station last week and was missing her purse and phone.

Quinn realized with a start that although she seemed to be staring in Cinderella, she was not a princess. She was holding the brunettes glass slipped and it was up to her to return it.  
So before she could second guess herself, she did just that. Standing from her desk with the purse, wallet, and phone, Quinn went over to Karofsky, "Hey, some of the items you gave me were stolen in a mugging. If the prosecutor doesn't need the physical objects for her case I'm just going to take them to the woman who reported being robbed."

He nodded vaguely, but as Quinn started walking away he called her back, "Wait, let me see her license photo."

The blonde groaned and surrendered the card to her superior, Karofsky appraised the picture, "I'll go, you should probably be working on the bust going down next week shouldn't you?"  
Quinn snatched the license back, "Like you said, my case my problem. I'll take care of it!" She said and practically skipped out of the precinct.

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**Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and will be woking on getting the next one done ASAP. Let me know what you thought!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you all for the support you've shown for this story, I can't believe how positive all of your reviews have been and they keep motivating me to come back to this story and keep updating it for you. This one is from Rachel's perspective, I think I like playing with that and will be switching back and forth between Rachel and Quinn for the rest of the chapters. Read, review, rejoice!**

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"That woman truly is horrid." Rachel said, flopping tiredly onto the small worn couch in her shared apartment.

One of her roommates, Kurt, was occupying the other end and he flicked his eyes up from the fashion magazine he was reading long enough to give the diva an amused smile, "Another fun dance class with the infamous Cassandra July?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Ha!" she laughed humorlessly, "Fun is one way to put it... That is if you consider getting yelled at by psychotic whack job brandishing a cane fun."

"Mh, can't think of a better way to spend my weekdays." Santana said from her position in their small kitchen. She was preparing dinner for the other's, and took a break from her cooking to subtly put out two shot glasses and fill them. Kurt went into the kitchen to sit on a barstool while Rachel just flopped further down so her feet ended up over the back of the couch.

"So Rachel, did anything special happen today?" Santana prompted, Kurt gave her a sneaky smack on the arm.

"No!" Rachel cried exasperatedly from the couch, "I missed my stop on the subway because I though that I saw her again." Neither of her roommates had to ask who the _her _was. There was no question it was the blonde who had saved her from the train.

At the mention of the infamous _her, _both Kurt and Santana threw back the shots the Latina had poured and the glasses were quickly refilled. It had become a drinking game between the two that whenever Rachel brought up the blonde, they did a shot. Rachel either hadn't caught on or was choosing the high road to ignore it.

"I ended up on the other side of the city and Ms. July spent half the class just harassing me and calling me names. Worst day ever." Rachel had spent the past week drifting around in search of the elusive blonde who had pulled her out of the subway tracks. "I don't think I'll ever find her." she sighed resigned.

"What are you even going to do if you find her Rach?" Santana asked, over the past few months of living with Rachel she had grown to care for the diva and didn't want to see her get hurt when she had so clearly fallen for someone so elusive.

"I don't know. I guess I just wanted to thank her." with her feet swept over the back of the couch and her head dangling over the front, Rachel was staring up at the ceiling as she tried to collect her thoughts. She never had thought past finding the blonde again, "There was just this... _connection_ between us when she grabbed me and our eyes met. It was as if the world had stopped and nothing else mattered, just that we were both there in that moment."

Santana shook her head, "Only you can make almost getting killed by a subway train into a sappy love story instead of an intense action thriller." she brandished the knife she was using accusingly in Rachel's direction, "It's sickening."

"Watch where you're pointing that!" Kurt squealed and the Latina grudgingly began chopping vegetables again with the knife safely on the cutting board, "Santana has a point though Rachel. I mean it sounds like you fell in love with her in the span of two seconds. You don't even know if she's gay!"

The singer sighed, they were both right but that didn't deter her one bit. She rolled off the couch with natural grace that came from years of ballet. Making her way over to her roommates, she took the full shot that sat in front of Kurt, "That doesn't mean I can't dream!"

"God you sound like a Disney movie! It's disgusting." Santana said, shutting her eyes as if to avoid having them scarred by Rachel's positivity. They shot open seconds later when Kurt and Rachel heard the knife clatter to the floor and the Latina begin cursing in rapid spanish.

"What did you do!?" Rachel yelled, running around to the other side of the counter to survey the damage. Santana had cut herself and blood was steadily flowing out of her finger and turning the translucent white onions she had been dicing red.

"What does it look like Berry? I cut myself, now help me out!" the brunette's face was twisted in pain and she was nervously shifting from foot to foot.

Rachel grabbed the slightly bloodstained knife from the ground and threw it in the sink, the last thing they needed was one of them stepping on it and cutting their feet now. One crisis at a time was enough. Immediately, Rachel's first aide training kicked in and she took control of the situation, "Santana put your hand over the sink, Kurt grab the rubbing alcohol and some gauze from the bathroom."

Both roommates did as instructed and Rachel grabbed a nearby clean towel to press to Santana's finger until the disinfectant arrived. Upon closer inspection, the Latina had cut her pointer finger just above where it connected to her hand, it looked deep but not deep enough to require stitches. Kurt was back in no time with the requested supplies and stood back to let Rachel do her thing. The singer poured some rubbing alcohol onto a gauze pad, "Santana, listen to me. This is going to sting really badly but I need you to keep the gauze pad pressed on your finger so you don't get an infection ok?"

The Latina had her eyes squeezed shut in pain but she managed to nod that she understood and Rachel quickly replaced the towel with the alcohol pad. The new wave of Spanish cursing almost drown out the doorbell, but Kurt heard it and immediately volunteered to get it, anything to escape the macabre scene in the kitchen. Before he could go, however, Rachel handed him the bloody towel with specific instructions to dispose of it.

Kurt held the towel from one of the few unstained corners with distasted, the last thing he needed was to pick up some sort of disease from Santana, but made his way to the door nonetheless. He opened it to find a composed blonde woman standing in the hallway who took in the bloody towel Kurt was holding and the loud Spanish cussing from inside the apartment with ever growing eyes.

"Hello!" he said, trying to break the awkward silence. Opening the door with the bloody towel probably should have been an instinctive no-no but Santana was so distracting with her incessant yelling. He felt like one of the ugly step-sisters, driving this poor woman away with his creepy door answering and hearing Santana's continued cussing in the back ground it was a miracle the woman hadn't run for the hills yet. But he tried to make it less uncomfortable, dropping the towel to his side and prompting her to speak, "How can I help you?"

"I was just about to ask the same of you, is everything alright in there?" the blonde said, still fixated on the bloody towel in the man's hand.

"No, we're all just peachy in here." he answered with a large smile that clashed horribly with the scene playing out in the kitchen.

Rachel and Santana could be heard yelling at each other from deep inside the apartment, "Hold still and it will hurt less!"

"Hurt less? Really Hobbit? I don't think you're qualified to tell me how much something is going to hurt considering your finger isn't gashed open and spurting blood faster than catsup in a McDonalds!"

Kurt just maintained his smile as a flabbergasted blonde tried to form words to explain what she was doing on their front step. Kurt filled for her though, asking a simple question, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

The blonde seemed to snap to her senses and dragged her eyes to meet Kurt's instead of staring at the towel, "Quinn, Quinn Fabray."

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**Hope you all liked it, it's a bit longer than the other chapters. Thank you again for all of your support it blows me away how much positive feedback I've gotten for this story line that I was planning on just being a little one-shot.**

**Love, Ms. Informed13**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N- Thank you all for your continued support, it's insane. I uploaded the last chapter, took a shower, came back, and there were five reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well! Read, Review, Rinse, Repeat.**

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"Quinn, Quinn Fabray." she said, managing to calmly meet the brunette man's eyes with her own. Every cop instinct she had was telling her to rush into the apartment and make sure nobody was in danger, but she resisted, that would be weird considering he assured her everything was alright and the rapid Spanish cussing seemed to have quieted somewhat, "Who are you?"

"I'm Kurt Hummel." the man said, and extended his hand to shake Quinn's and after quickly making sure there wasn't any blood on it, she accepted it in a firm handshake. Now standing in the hallway outside of the apartment, Quinn began having second thoughts. There seemed to be a lot of people inside, what was she going to say to the brunette- Rachel- what if she had a boyfriend? What if she had a girlfriend? Quinn couldn't decide which one was worse but she had no choice but to press on at this point.

"Does a Rachel Berry live here?" she asked, trying to sound as un- awkward as humanly possible. But she could feel how horribly she was failing at that. She nervously straightened her shoulders and tried to exude as much confidence as possible, she shifted the stolen purse in her hands but kept it off to the side.

The man- Kurt- was being incredibly stubborn, and Quinn saw a sneaky smile creep onto his face. That combined with the bloody towel was enough to make her stomach churn, "That depends entirely on who's asking."

The two heard someone yell from inside the apartment, "Who's at the door?"

"Someone looking for a Rachel Berry." he parroted.

"Tell them I'll be there in a second." a second voice from the apartment yelled.

"I have to make sure they aren't a serial killer first!" he laughed at the blonde's visible discomfort, "You aren't a serial killer right? Because if one of us had to die I would prefer it be Santana, Rachel does have her diva moments and can be a bit overbearing but she really is the best cook of all three of us."

Quinn shook her head at the weird radiating off the whole situation, "Are you seriously asking me if I'm a serial killer? While you're holding a blood soaked towel?"

Kurt shrugged dismissively at the accusation, "I wouldn't call it blood-soaked as much as blood stained. And as the resident male of this residence I feel it's my duty to make sure the woman of this apartment are safe from serial killers."

"Then no, I'm not a serial killer." Quinn sighed exasperatedly. This was in no way how she imagined this encounter to go.

"Don't worry, she's not a serial killer!" Kurt yelled over his shoulder, and got back the reply "It's a she? Is she hot?"

"Really? I'm gay Santana, how many times do I have to tell you not to ask my opinion on the 'hotness' of women?" before he could finish his rant, he was joined at the door by a tall imposing Latina who openly appraised Quinn. A smile grew on the woman's lips and she extended her hand to shake Quinn's.

"Hi, I'm Santana." The blonde didn't know how to respond to the absurdity playing out before her. One of the Latina's finger's was wrapped up in gauze and Quinn just gave Santana an incredulous look at the offer to shake her hand.

"Are you alright?" was all she managed to get out.

"Oh that." Santana gestured at the bandaged finger, "Don't worry about it, just a domestic injury. I don't normally cook for a reason."

The third voice Quinn had heard earlier from deep inside of the apartment spoke again, this time much closer, "Who did you say is at the door?"

Santana and Kurt were blocking the doorway so Quinn couldn't get a good look at the woman who spoke but she just knew it had to be Rachel, "It's someone named Quinn Fabray." Kurt replied, not budging from his post in front of the door, "Do you know anyone named Quinn?"

There was a moment of silence and then the voice was back, "No, I don't believe I do."

Kurt and Santana both gave Quinn identical mischievous smiles, "Guess you're out of luck Fabray." Santana said, moving to close the door, "But you can call me later if you want." she offered.

"Wait!" Quinn said just as the Latina was about to close the door the rest of the way.

"I'm sorry, we don't want to buy what you're selling."

The blonde was fed up with twiddle- dee and twiddle- dumb and finally took control of the situation as she had so many times in the past. Her inner cop came out and she stuck her foot in the door so it couldn't close all the way, "I'm not a solicitor, I'm not trying to sell you anything. I'm a police officer and I need to talk to Rachel Berry about some personal items that were stolen from her in a mugging last week!" she practically growled through the shoe sized crack in the door.

Quicker than she expected, the door swung back open, but Santana once again blocked the doorway, "Prove it."

Quinn pulled the badge that she wore around her neck out from under her shirt and showed Santana the shield on the outside that proved her credentials.

The Latina's smile grew into a full fledged smirk that would give the cheshire cat a run for his money, "So you're a cop? Does that mean you have handcuffs?" she asked winking at Quinn who opened her mouth to start going off about obstructing justice and really give the brunette a piece of her mind when a delicate hand appeared on Santana's elbow and pulled her out of the doorway while chastising her

"God Santana, can't you keep it in your pants for like five minutes?" A shorter brunette finally managed to push Santana out of the way. Quinn's breath caught in her throat when the woman shook her hair out of her face and finally locked eyes with the blonde. Both of them just stood there for a moment, staring at each other and not saying a word until Kurt- who was still standing near the door- broke their silence.

"Oh my goodness, we've finally found the only person on earth who can make Rachel speechless!"

That earned him a glare from the brunette who tore her eyes away from Quinn's, she stepped out into the hallway with Quinn and shut the door behind her in attempt to get the two of them some privacy.

Once they were alone, they just continued to silently look at each other for a moment. It was like they were stuck in some sort of twilight, neither one dared to talk for fear it would shatter the glass fragile moment they were living in. And that moment seemed to simultaneously stretch on forever and last mere seconds. There was a shared understanding, they both knew exactly who the other one was without having to say a word to each other, but at the same time there was a shared disbelief. Like when you see a loved one for the first time after they have been gone for an extended period, it's as if they will vanish when you reach out to touch them, they aren't real.

But they were and this moment was more magical than either one could believe.

Quinn landed back in reality first with the weight of the brunette's purse in her hand, "Hi, I'm Quinn Fabray." she began nervously. The intensity with which the brunette was looking at her scrambled her thoughts and she was floundering not to sound like an idiot, "I work for the NYPD" she gestured at the badge that still rested against her chest, "and your purse and phone were recently recovered in a drug bust."

The brunette nodded and finally noticed the bag hanging from Quinn's hand, but she didn't know the words to respond. Quinn just kept bravely on, "You can have it back, the DA doesn't need it to prosecute the case." she held out the purse for Rachel to take and once their hands touched it was as though the spell had broken.

They froze in that contact and Rachel's eyes widened at the connection, "It really is you." she whispered, searching the blonde's eyes and finding the exact same intensity she saw that day in the subway station.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N- It's official, this story is unhealthy for me. I found myself day dreaming about what the hallway encounter was going to go like. Thank you all for your warm reviews and I hope you like this chapter! I swear, I have the best readers on this story :) Remember- Read, Review, Reminisce!**

**This chapter is from Rachel's point of view.**

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"It really is you." with those words, Rachel seemed to break them out of their stupor but neither one moved to end the contact between them over the purse. The brunette felt an immediate spark once their hands touched, the same spark she felt in the subway when she first locked eyes with her savior. That spark set her on fire, it made her feel alive, hear the rushing of the ocean in her ears, see the explosion of fireworks behind her eyes, and feel butterflies alight in her stomach.

And it was only their fingers barely brushing.

Quinn's hands dropped away and she quickly shoved them into her pockets as though she had been burned. Rachel could see a pink tinge crawl from her cheeks all the way up to the tips of her ears. She tucked a loose piece of blonde hair behind her ear and nervously shuffled her feet like a shy teenager, the image made Rachel smile. Quinn's eyes fell to her feet as she seemed to recoil in on herself, but Rachel extended to fill the void.

"Thank you." the brunette said softly, the hallway felt so closed and intimate that those two words conveyed all the emotion Rachel was feeling.

"It's no problem," Quinn replied to her sneakers, "They didn't need it as evidence anymore and I live near here so it really wasn't any trouble."

The blonde's misinterpretation just made Rachel's smile grow, "Not for that." hazel eyes jumped up to meet chocolate brown ones in confusion, "Well yes for the purse, but that's not what I was talking about. Thank you for saving me."

"Oh, that." Quinn nodded and Rachel could practically see the wheels turning in her head processing some smart remark. What she didn't know was that on the inside, the blond was freaking out. It was now or never, she had to decide if she would throw herself out there for Rachel or play it safe and avoid the threat of any danger.

She decided on the former.

Quinn stopped the nervous shuffling of her feet and met Rachel's gaze with a confidence and bravado that shocked the shorter woman, this Quinn was a completely different person than the one that she had seen mere seconds ago, "When I saw you, you swept me off my feet, I figured it was only polite I return the favor." she said cheekily. Rachel's jaw dropped as she processed what Quinn had just said, but soon enough the most adorable bubbling laughter Quinn had ever heard was tumbling out of the brunette's mouth.

"That was so cheesy." she said once her laughter subsided.

"Cheesy works for me." the blonde replied mock defensively, "poetry works pretty well too." she offered.

"Oh really?" Rachel was amazed at how easily the conversation and banter flowed between them.

"Oh really." Quinn said, when Quinn decides to go for something she goes all in so after a second of mentally searching through her memorize poems until she found the perfect one to recite for Rachel. She took a deep breath and began,

_"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond_  
_any experience, your eyes have their silence:_  
_in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,_  
_or which i cannot touch because they are too near"_

Standing there watching Quinn's smirk grow, Rachel took the opportunity to really study the other woman in a way she didn't have a chance to in their first encounter. The blonde was painfully beautiful. The classically smooth gentle planes of her face seemed to be perfectly sculpted from the finest marble.

_"Your slightest look easily will unclose me_  
_though I have closed myself as fingers,_  
_you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens_  
_(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose"_

The only blemish that Rachel could find was in the hinted bruises beneath her eyes that came from years of restless nights. Rachel found herself wanting to know what kept Quinn up those days. Did nameless demons haunt her dreams? Or did all to identifiable ones haunt her days?

"_Or__ if your wish be to close me, I and_  
_my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,_  
_as when the heart of this flower imagines_  
_the snow carefully everywhere descending"_

"Did you just quote E.E. Cummings" the brunette's jaw dropped once again, she was continuously surprised by Quinn. In less than ten minutes she had seen the woman transform from the nervous, shy wreck, to a confident, cocky flirt and then into the deep, intellectual scholar she sway before her now.

"That depends entirely on if you like E.E. Cummings." Quinn said with a smile.

"Well it just so happens I do." the brunette got lost somewhere between Quinn's clavicle and her perfect jawline, tracing up the graceful slope of her neck. Her eyes caught on the thin silver chain from which the blonde's badge hung, how this delicate woman ended up as a cop Rachel could never imagine.

"Then yes, I did." Quinn didn't know what was most spectacular to her at that moment, that she had found Rachel again, that Rachel was this spectacularly beautiful woman, or that Rachel had recognized who Quinn was quoting.

Rachel just shook her head, "You astound me Quinn Fabray." she said, half because she really was astounded, and half because she wanted to test out how the blonde's name sounded coming through her lips. It rolled off her tongue easily and sounded almost magic to the singer's ears.

"And how is that?" the blond's head tipped to the side questioningly, hair slipping from behind her ears to frame her face.

"I guess that it's just not anybody that jumps into the way of a train to save a complete stranger, and then later quote poetry to that stranger. You're like a knight in shining armor on steroids." Rachel's smile grew as Quinn's did.

Quinn got goosebumps at the comparison, it was fitting after all Rachel looked like a princess even if she was just wearing her sweaty old NYADA t-shrit and sweats. But she couldn't come up with something more intelligent to respond than a lame, "Yeah, I'm special like that I guess." After a moment of just staring at each other and smiling, Quinn seemed to have a sudden realization that they had been standing out in the hallway talking for an unreasonably long amount of time for someone returning a purse. But she didn't want to have to end their conversation.

Rachel noticed the shift in Quinn's posture and read the blonde's mind, "I'm sorry if I'm keeping you. I mean you must have a lot of important police work to be doing."

Quinn's smile drooped a bit as she contemplated going back to the precinct, "Oh definitely, the NYPD clearly has all sorts of important things for me to be doing." Rachel wasn't all that happy to be parting ways either, but she couldn't invite the blonde inside- her crazy roommates would attack- and their hallway conversation had expired.

"Can I get a business card or something for any future muggings or subway related emergencies?" Rachel asked. The last thing she wanted was to loose the blonde after she had found her. The last week spent in limbo looking for Quinn was horrible and even though they had just spent a few minutes talking in the hallway she knew Quinn was something special.

Quinn laughed, it was light and musical. Rachel thought it sounded like summer, "Only if you promise not to go out getting mugged or falling into subway tracks so you have an excuse to call me." she reached into her back pocket and pulled a NYPD card out of her wallet. It had the number for her extension at the precinct as well as her email and 911. Just in case someone didn't know the number for emergencies, the idiocy of some government organizations drove her insane sometimes.

"Do you have a pen?" the blonde asked.

"Hang on." Rachel opened the door of her apartment briefly and disappeared inside. Santana and Kurt were conspiratorially whispering in the kitchen and for some reason the Latina had the knife and was once again chopping vegetables.

"How's it going with the cop?" Santana asked, continuing dicing tomatoes while looking at the brunette.

"It's going great, I need a pen." Rachel began rummaging through a drawer looking for the writing device, "Wait why do you have the knife again? Kurt!" she shot the boy an accusing glare when she popped out of the drawer with a pen held triumphantly in her hand, "Why did you let her have the knife again?"

"I very well wasn't going to make dinner now was I?" he shot back.

The diva just shook her head and walked back out the door muttering 'unbelievable' under her breath. When she reemerged in the hallway she caught Quinn fixing her hair and handed the blonde the pen. Quinn took it and scrawled something on the back of her business card before handing it over to the brunette.

Rachel took it with a smile as their hands brushed again, "Thanks."

Quinn nodded and went to leave, giving one last smile and wave over her shoulder to the brunette as she disappeared around the corner. Rachel stood in the hall for a minute just smiling and cradling the business card before she flipped it over and read what Quinn had written in her surprisingly elegant loopy handwriting.

_'Just in case there isn't an emergency.'_ Along with the blonde's cell phone number. Rachel's smile grew as she programmed the number into her cell phone and walked back into her apartment, already imagining what her next encounter with the blonde would be like._  
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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Hey everyone, thank you all for reading and reviewing, it really is a fun story to write and I'm glad that you are all still enjoying it. No matter how...sappy that last chapter was. This next one might be coming a bit out of left field but there is a point to it! Read, Review, Represent!**

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The first time Rachel texted Quinn after she gave the brunette her number was two days later. For a while, Quinn was afraid that she wasn't going to contact her at all and she spent her time diving into work. The case was starting to heat up and she found herself working late night and early mornings out with the gang still in attempt to get their trust. It was turning out to be more difficult than she anticipated. Between time on the street, in meetings being briefed, going over the new information she gained, and sitting on stakeouts with her fellow cops, Quinn hardly had a few hours to sneak home and sleep, eat, or shower in the past forty-eight hours.

She was in the middle of a morning briefing from the chief of police when her phone buzzed in her back pocket and she smiled when she read the message: _Roses are red, Violets are blue, You weren't in the subway, So I miss you._

Sure it wasn't a perfect poem but she loved it nonetheless. She quickly tapped out a reply and slipped the phone back into her pocket, when she looked up she realized that the chief had stopped talking and was glaring at her, "Something you want to share with the group Fabray?"

_Shit._ She thought blushing, "No. I'm good thanks."

The meeting dragged on for what felt like forever with Quinn occasionally texting under the table like she was back in highschool. Finally she was released to roam the streets with her partner, Noah Puckerman. He knew from the moment they slipped into their undercover cruiser that something was up with the blonde.

"Fabray, who's the girl?" he asked. Puck was the only person in the NYPD that knew about her secret; they joined the force around the same time and bonded over their mutual hatred of Karofsky.

Quinn slumped down in her seat, ignoring the bite of the seatbelt into her shoulder and blew some hair out of her eyes, "It's not a girl thing."

"Like hell it's not!" His eyes were covered by the cliche pair of aviators he always seemed to be wearing, but Quinn knew from experience that they were narrowed to match the smirk he was wearing, "You're never this quiet unless it's over a girl. Hell I remember when you wouldn't talk to me for two days straight because that chick you met at the coffee shop wouldn't call you back. So who is it this time partner?"

"I'm telling you, it's not a big deal."

"Blondie." he said, finally dipping the glasses down his nose and adverting his attention from the road to give her a proper look, "I don't know how you ever became an undercover vice officer; you suck at lying."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the nickname, "It's not a big deal!"

"Oh my god! You got a girl pregnant didn't you!?"

"What the hell Puckerman?" she cried outraged, punching him firmly on the arm.

"Oh come on! If you were a guy it would totally make sense. Now fess up, for the next four hours you are my only entertainment."

The blonde sat up straight in her seat but turned to glare out the window at the city life going on all around them, "Remember that girl from the subway last week?"

"Hot mysterious brunette? Of course I do!"

"Well I met her a couple of days ago when I took her the purse back, some uniforms picked up the mugger, and well she texted me and I haven't the foggiest clue what to say to her."

Puck laughed devilishly, "So let me get this straight, you want girl advice from the Puckzilla?"

"Only if you don't call yourself that."

He carefully thought for a few seconds, slowing down to glare out the window at a couple of suspicious looking men, "You told her you're a cop right? Chicks totally love cops."

"Yes she knows I'm a police officer." Quinn hated referring to herself as a 'cop' almost as much as she hated people's reactions to learning of her profession. She would get one of four responses when she told people what she did for a living, the grateful citizen who thanked her for her service, the outraged civil liberties protector who condemned her for taking away their freedom, the meth- head who said she was 'killing their buzz', and the stupid patriarchy defender who couldn't believe they had girls playing cop.

"Then go for it!" he said excitedly smacking his palm on the steering wheel, "Just ask her out, since when do you have girl troubles anyway?"

"I can't just ask her out! She's different..." the blonde trailed off as her phone vibrated again and she saw that it was Rachel continuing on the conversation they had been having during the briefing before the dancer's first class. She smiled and replied, of course nothing got past Puck.

"What did she say?"

"She said that you should stop being a nosy jackass." Quinn wrote a quick reply and sent it.

"Oh my goodness, grow a pair and ask her out Fabray!"

"I don't even know if she's interested in me! If she is, she is just as capable of making the first step as I am!"

"Pansy." Puck muttered, pulling over to the side of the road where they were supposed to wait and case the area for their meet up later that day. When Quinn's phone buzzed again he made his move, grabbing it from her with one hand and using the other to push her back in her seat so she couldn't make an attempt to reclaim it. He read the message and took matters into his own hands. Writing out his own reply- _I was thinking, we should get together sometime soon._

"Give it back Puckerman!" Quinn struggled against the boy's hand and her tightened seatbelt to reach her phone, but Puck's arms were longer and he was stronger.

"You'll thank me later!" he singsonged, waiting for a reply from Rachel.

Soon enough he got the reply- _I would love to! My roommate Kurt was just telling me about this lovely cafe near my apartment, does tomorrow for lunch work for you?_

"Do you have plans tomorrow for lunch?" Puck asked obnoxiously, already crafting a reply in Quinn's place.

"Nothing. Why?"

"False, you have a lunch date with Rachel!" he happily threw the phone back to the struggling blonde.

"What did you tell her?" she quickly read through the recent texts on her phone and got her answer, "Damn you Puck." she muttered, sinking further down into her seat.

"Buck up, you better get your date face on!"

Quinn didn't think she could stand another few hours stuck in the car with Puck. She got out of the car, glaring at a passing cab that honked at her, and began pacing the sidewalk. Puck joined her soon enough and they took off down the now familiar street.

It happened out of nowhere, there was an impossibly loud bang and Quinn was on the ground with Puck on top of her acting as a human shield. Another bang and he was scrambling up, pulling Quinn along but the moment she tried to push herself off the pavement with her left arm she felt a shooting pain up to her shoulder. All she could hear was a ringing in her ears and Puck's faraway voice yelling at her to _'Get up!'_

She managed to struggle to her feet and stumble with Puck to the safety of a car. It wasn't the one they came in but they crouched down behind it until the bangs stopped. Quinn felt woozy and disoriented and she just wanted to lay down, she saw Puck kneeling with his gun drawn and it didn't quite register to her why.

Quinn just wanted it to be quiet, she had the biggest headache and nothing she did would make it quiet, until finally the noise all drifted away. She reached down to feel her arm because the pain had gone away and was greeted with warm wetness. The last thing she registered before blacking out was Puck holding her to his chest and calling for help on his cell phone, she didn't understand why he was so scared. It was finally quiet.

While she was passed out, Quinn dreamed of knights in shining armor. Of princesses in castles and of fire breathing dragons. In her dream she was running towards an impossibly tall tower and as she got closer and closer it just grew and grew until the brunette princess at the top was a mere speck. Once she reached the base of the tower a dragon appeared blowing blood red fire at her, the fire hit her left arm and went right through. She imagined knights giving everything they had for the princess, of happily ever afters.

The ambulance arrived shortly after Quinn fell unconscious, they tend to drive a bit faster when the call is for a wounded cop. It pulled up beside the crappy car that the two had been hiding behind and a couple of paramedics jumped out and before Puck knew it they had his partner on a stretcher and were loading her into the ambulance. Puck followed her in and clung to her hand as they raced towards the hospital past the sidewalk now stained with the blonde's blood, past the shell casings from their attackers, and past their car that was now spray painted with the word _'snitch'._

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**A/N- I know, super dramatic and cliffhanger-ish but not to worry, I'll update soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N- Thank you all for your continued reading and support! This one is from Rachel's point of view, and is kind of heavy in text messages which I personally don't like much but it was a necessary evil to have any communication so bear with me and it will not be happening in the future as much. Read, Review, Reiterate**

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"Oh my god, if you make me read over one more text you end up deleting I swear I'm literally going to go insane, slap you, and then break your phone with a hammer!"

"Please? I promise this is the last one!"

"Fine, give it here."

Rachel smiled and handed her phone over to Santana. They had spent the past fifteen minutes over breakfast with Rachel typing up various texts to send to Quinn and having her roommate proofreading them, but she had yet to actually send a message. The Latina's nerves were wearing thin, but she had grown fond of the little diva over their months of living together whether she wanted to admit or night so she complied and stopped her focused devouring of Frosted Flakes to examine Rachel's latest attempt at flirting.

"_Quinn, I was thinking about you and just wanted to say 'hi' and wish you a good day!_" Santana read aloud before making a fake balking face, "What are you, in the sixth grade?"

"I'm trying over here!" Rachel threw her hands up in desperation. She tried to divert her attention back to washing dishes, cleaning always helped to focus her and with roommates like Kurt and Santana who seemed to leave a constant tornado in their wake, there was always plenty to be done.

The Latina rolled her eyes, "At least it's better than the lame attempt at poetry you had before." Santana deleted the message just to be sure that the brunette wouldn't be tempted to send it when she gave her the phone back, "And why am I doing this? Shouldn't this be a job for Lady Hummel?"

"He's asleep, he dealt with this all last night so now it's your turn!" Rachel grabbed for her phone but Santana pulled it just out of her reach.

"Hang on. She's into poetry and that kind of mushy shit right?"

"Yes." the brunette said hesitantly, already hesitant of what Santana was planning to do but refraining from chastising her and saying that it wasn't 'mushy shit'. Rachel wasn't innocent enough to believe she could get away with such a smart-assed comment as that so early in the morning without some sort of retaliation from the Latina.

"I got this." she typed a bit, looked at what she had written, and hit the sent button before happily dropping the phone onto the counter in front of Rachel lap and getting up to leave.

The singer snatched up the bedazzled phone and quickly read through the message, "Santana! That is the worst poem I've ever seen! Why'd you send that?"

"Deep breath Berry, everything is going to be fine." Santana mocked zen breathing complete with her hands coming together in front of her chest in an image of prayer before she went about grabbing her purse and already going half out the door. Sure enough, a few seconds later Rachel's phone buzzed with a reply from Quinn, maybe Santana's poetry wasn't half bad.

Butterflies launched into flight in Rachel's stomach when she opened Quinn's message and relief flooded through her at the sight of the blonde's cute retort. Rachel wore a smile through the rest of her day as she and Quinn texted all throughout the morning. Not even Cassandra's normal insults could dampen her spirits, and her mood just increased with each flirty text and cute anecdote that she and Quinn swapped. All the way up until Quinn asked her to hang out and Rachel suggested that they go out to lunch. She waited with baited breath for a response.

A response that never came.

It was just around noon and she had just gotten out of an acting class. Her makeup was smudged and her hair was a mess from a scene her professor had assigned to her and another girl that they had gone to town with, fake tears and all. Rationalizing that the blonde was probably busy at work and couldn't text her constantly, she waited an hour. One excruciatingly long, doubt filled hour, before she sent another message. And waited some more. Her initial thought after waiting for a reply to the second message was that it had been a mistake to ask Quinn out, she had been too forward, had misread the signs and Quinn wasn't actually interested in her. Her mind went into overdrive imaging worst case scenarios that all ended in her never hearing from the blonde again.

Not wanting to come off as desperate, Rachel waited until later that night when she would be back at the apartment with Kurt and Santana to help her figure out her next step. Which happened relatively soon.

They walked in together, Santana first doing her best to ignore the persistent brunette trailing her. Kurt was loudly carrying on some long winded rant from their trip home, "I don't understand what the big deal is, the silk blouse goes perfectly with the skirt! If you would just let me pitch the idea we could go somewhere!"

The two of them were working at a new designer's studio and the Latina was less than pleased with their current assignment to help prepare for an upcoming photo shoot, "Ok, it's up to you Kurt."

He smiled at his winning the argument, "I will!" after dropping his scarf on the coffee table he saw Rachel sitting dejectedly on the sofa, her legs were pulled up to her chest and her head was resting on her knees, "What's wrong with you?"

"It's been like four hours since she's replied to one of my texts." she was going to go insane if she didn't hear back from Quinn soon.

Santana rolled her eyes; it was unbelievable how hooked the diva was on this girl that she had met a total of two times. It was a recipe for disaster.

Kurt was more sympathetic and indulged her pouting, "When was the last time you texted her?"

"Like three hours." Rachel did the math in her head quickly.

"Ok, text her back. But don't sound desperate." Kurt relented. The singer picked her phone up from the couch where she had been staring intently at it for the past few minutes, she typed the message she had crafted in her mind long ago, _'Hi Quinn, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?' _It wasn't too clingy but still showed her interest.

She smiled triumphantly when she hit the send button. Doubt crept into the back of her mind once again but she pushed it away and quicker than expected, her phone buzzed with a new message.

Expecting in equal parts a snarky comment as she had gotten previously, or a message breaking off their plans. Never would she have expected the response she got, _'This is Puck, Quinn's partner from the NYPD. I regret to inform you that Quinn will not be able to uphold her lunch plans with you tomorrow. Earlier today she was injured in the line of duty and is currently hospitalized for the foreseeable future.' _

The wind was knocked out of Rachel's lungs and she went to her bedroom wordlessly and collapsed on her bed. She dropped her phone on the floral covers and sat staring blankly at the opposite wall, she just found Quinn, how could she have gotten hurt? Kurt followed her and took the phone, reading the text still glowing brightly on the screen he gasped. After how happy Rachel had been all day he couldn't believe what had happened.

"It's going to be fine Rachel, he said that she would be hospitalized which means that she's still alive." Kurt began to ramble, "And you don't even know what 'injured in the line of duty' means she could totally just have tripped down a flight of stairs trying to chase down a bad guy."

"Right, everything is going to be fine." the words sounded hollow and metallic coming out of her mouth and even with all of her acting expertise she wasn't able to convince herself that they were true.

Kurt quickly sent a message back to this 'Puck' person, What do you mean by injured, is she going to be alright? They were joined in the small bedroom by Santana soon who took one look at Rachel sitting unresponsive on the bed and left again. By the time she returned with a gallon of vegan icecream and three spoons, Kurt had already gotten a reply, _'She'll be alright. She just got shot in the arm a little bit. Surgery went well and we are just waiting for her to wake up.'_

Unable to supress his laughter, the brunette cracked a wide smile and let out a wolfish bark, "She was just shot in the arm 'a little bit'. Her partner said that she's going to be fine Rachel." He told her, handing the diva the phone to check for herself.

After reading the message over until she could recite it verbatim, Rachel felt the tension rush out of her like a tidal wave. She thanked Kurt and Santana for their concern but sent them away without even touching the ice-cream that Santana had brought. Instead of socializing and rehashing her day with the two like she normally did, the brunette curled up under her covers and tried to puzzle out her behavior. Her roommates were right, she hardly knew Quinn but the thought of her being hurt was so painful to her she was nearly comatose until she heard that the blonde was alright.

She was hopelessly under the cop's spell.

The reassuring message from Quinn's partner went unanswered and soon another text from him came through, _'It looks like she's going to be stuck here overnight and for part of tomorrow. She keeps going on about how she's letting you down. Maybe you would want to stop by tomorrow? It would mean a lot to her.'_

Rachel didn't even think out her reply, it was an automatic response like a muscle memory. Learned motion that comes without conscious effort, like a practiced ballerina performing a pirouette, it was a bit scary considering how new the idea actually was, _'What time works best?'_

After solidifying her plans with Puck, Rachel drifted into uneasy sleep. She dreamt about princes that don't come home. Widows and folded flags haunted the dark corners of her subconscious, a horror show of sorrow punctuated randomly with moments of solace when memories of Quinn's smiling face would surface. One thought was fresh in her mind when she awoke; not all fairy tales could possibly end in happily ever after, there were just too many variables. So what happens to the ones that just end? Are they ever told? Or are they labeled as something else and shelved far away so as to not detract from the real happily ever afters?

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**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter, it went a bit back in time to get Rachel caught up and the next one will be back to Quinn's POV.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N- Hi, finally back to Quinn's POV, hope I didn't leave you waiting too long for this chapter. Let me know what you think of it! Read, Review, Reunite.**

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Quinn woke up to the incessant beeping of machines, whirring of monitors, and dripping of fluid down an IV into her arm. The noise was the first thing that she registered. The silence was the last thing she noticed before she passed out, and the first she noticed when she awoke. The next thing that got through to Quinn was Puck passed out in a chair next to her bed and suddenly everything came back to her.

The shooting, the blood, the weird dream. Checking herself over from head to toe she seemed to be unharmed except for a bandage wrapped securely around her upper left arm. Her breath hitched in her throat and she could have sworn her heart stopped for a moment as she tried to wiggle her fingers, but sure enough after a second the digits complied and moved over the top of her blanket sending a slight chill up her arm.

"Fabray, you are never allowed to do that again." Puck said, he had woken up from his nap and his voice was low and gravely from sleep.

"Deal." she easily agreed. The last thing she wanted was to get shot again, granted that wasn't her first time having bullets flying at her, but it was the first time that she had gotten hit.

Puck sat up properly, rubbing his eyes and checking his phone, "You had half the precinct in here earlier. Even the chief came down to check on you. It was hilarious, you should have seen the look on your doctor's face when half the NYPD was saying what would happen if you didn't pull through."

Quinn smiled, dysfunctional as it was, the force was a sort of family and it felt good to know that they cared for her enough to threaten a medical professional, "Wait, what time is it?"

"About ten." the boy said checking his watch, "Your surgery took a lot of the evening and then you were so medicated that you slept straight through the night. Well straight through save for some random, weird mumbling about princesses. I blame the morphine."

The blonde nodded uneasily, she just hoped that she hadn't said something stupid, "So what's the word on my arm?"

Puck seemed reluctant to look at the bandage on her arm, "It wasn't too big of an injury actually. Through and through they patched you up pretty well but they said there would be a bit of physical therapy time. They are just waiting for some test results back and you'll be released with an outpatient physical."

Quinn heard what he was saying but didn't really process it for a bit. When she did though, it hit her like a ton of bricks. She reached up and gently fingered the bandage around her arm, holding her breath she pressed her right hand flat against the injury and applied the smallest bit of pressure. The air rushed out of her lungs when she did, but ever since she was young, she was the kind of kid that picked at scabs and didn't believe that a wall socket really shocked you until she felt it for herself.

Looking around her room, Quinn finally saw the insane amount of flowers decorating every available surface of the tiny hospital room. When a cop gets hurt it wasn't taken lightly.

"Physical therapy? You've got to be kidding me." Last year Quinn had twisted an ankle in pursuit of a suspect and the doctor had insisted she go through 'physical therapy' to ensure she didn't suffer further damage. Three days a week for four weeks she had to do strengthening exercises like swimming and stretching. It was a complete waste of time and she wasn't able to do any real work the entire time, but she had killer calves now.

"Don't look too excited there Quinn, I know you love being on the gimp squad but it's only temporary."

"You call it gimp squad one more time and I swear..." the entire time when Quinn had been chained to her desk, Puck had made sure to poke extra fun at her.

"Hey, it's not nice to threaten people Quinn. Especially your partner."

The blonde just shook her head, the blonde knew that she was never going to live down this injury and Puck would always bring this up as the time he saved her. She was interrupted before she could rant though by a doctor entering her room to give her an update.

"It's good to see you are awake finally Officer." she said with a large smile, Quinn tried to determine if the extra kindness was because she was a police officer, because Puck was sitting next to her looking incredibly intimidating, or because the doctor was genuinely that happy, "We got most of your test results back and so far it looks like you'll be back on the job in no time!"

_Thank goodness_, Quinn thought to herself, "Great! Can I get an ETA on when you think I'll be able to get out of here?"

"Well since we are still waiting on a few tests, you still need an outpatient physical, and I want you to meet with the doctor who will be conducting your physical therapy before you leave so I'd guess you're going to be here for a few more hours."

"Alright, thanks." the blonde said dejectedly.

"On the bright side, your surgery went amazingly! I'm sure your partner already gave you the cliff notes but the injury was relatively superficial. Hardly punctured the muscle tissue at all and really the operation took so long because we had our best plastic surgeon in there to close and make sure that scarring would be minimal." the doctor was trying to shed a positive light on the whole situation and Quinn had to commend her for trying.

"Too bad Q, girls love scars!" Puck chimed in with bright eyes.

Quinn rolled her eyes, "Thanks Puck."

"It's true!" He pushed on, "Doctor, don't you think Quinn would look like five times hotter if she had a scar?"

The blonde smacked him with her good arm and flashed the doctor an apologetic grin, "I'm sorry, Puck doesn't quite know when to shut up."

"It's fine." the doctor said, "I'll let you know when you will be able to go." she went to leave the room but just before she did, she fake whispered over her shoulder to Puck, "I think she's plenty cute enough without the scar."

Quinn could swear she saw the doctor wink at her as she shut the door behind her. Puck was silent for a moment, but Quinn saw how he had to physically clench his jaw to keep from making a comment, "Fine, let's hear it Puck."

"Look who could totally score with the doc if she didn't already have a booty call coming to see her at noon!" he jeered then slapped a hand over his mouth when he realized his mistake.

"What the hell do you mean I have a booty call coming to visit in under an hour!?" Quinn's voice steadily rose higher until she was practically supersonic as she screeched the last word of her question.

Puck suddenly became very interested in his shoes and stared determinedly at them while they shuffled nervously, "Um, well Rachel had texted me, well you. She wanted to know if you were still on for lunch, which of course you weren't because you are in the hospital. I told her where you were so that it wouldn't seem like you were standing her up."

Quinn could understand his logic and appreciated that he took the time to fill her in but still, "You told her that I'm in the hospital!?"

"Yeah, then she sort of freaked out so I had to tell her that you were just a little bit shot. Then I invited her to come visit you because she seemed concerned about you. She'll be here in like an hour."

"Shit, she can't see me like this! I look like hell!" Quinn sat up straight in the bed and tried to brush out her hair with her fingers a bit, it was hopeless. "Puck, I need you to go and find me a hair tie, a toothbrush, and some concealer."

"Do I look like your bitch boy?"

"Actually yeah, you do!"

He relented and left reciting the list over in his head so he wouldn't forget blonde began nervously nibbling on her fingernail like she did when she was uncertain, worst case scenarios began playing out in her mind's eye. Everything seemed to be going wrong between her and Rachel. Quinn wasn't supposed to be some helpless damsel in distress.

Puck returned quicker than expected, slightly out of breath and red faced. He dropped the requested items on her bed, "There you go, hair tie from that cute nurse at the station down the hall, toothbrush from the gift shop, concealer from this hot chick in the waiting room, and a sandwich from the deli down the street!"

"I didn't ask for a sandwich." the blonde said. She corralled her hair quickly into a side braid and secured it with the hair tie.

"Yeah that's actually for me." he grabbed it back from Quinn's lap and began unwrapping it while the blonde took the toothbrush and concealer into the bathroom, "Might want to put some pants on while your up Q!"

She gave him a wave with one finger and closed the bathroom door a little harder than necessary while Puck started eating the sandwich with his feet thrown up on the empty bed. Quinn returned soon, while in the bathroom she realized that she never did request toothpaste. Before she could complain that Puck didn't have the foresight to buy toothpaste, she saw Rachel walk right past her room, the brunette really didn't have a good sense of direction.

Quinn jumped into the bed, displacing Puck's feet, and slipped under the covers, "How do I look?" she whispered.

"Pathetic." he whispered back.

The blonde smacked him then tried to figure out how to act natural, which proved to be harder than it really should be. She was interrupted in the middle of looking around for something to read by Rachel poking her head in the door, her eyes lit up when she saw Quinn, but dimmed slightly as they took in the rest of the hospital room.

"Hi." she said slightly breathlessly.

"Hi." Quinn replied, Puck smirked looking between the two of them before he subtly poked the blonde with his foot, "Come in." she said. Rachel smiled and took the unoccupied seat on the other side of the blonde's bed.

Quinn thanked the heavens that she wasn't wearing a heart monitor because she swore that if she had been it would start beeping frantically to match the racing of her pulse right now. She was convinced that if the brunette smiled any wider, her heart would fly straight out of her chest and escape the hospital. That is, it would if it didn't already belong to the woman who was currently sitting in the chair beside her bed.

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**A/N- So I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you all for the reviews that last chapter got, it really motivated me to get this chapter out sooner!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N- Thank you for reading and reviewing and sticking with the story! Hopefully you will enjoy this chapter too, this one is from Rachel's POV.**

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"Come in." Rachel heard Quinn say when she arrived at the door of the blonde's hospital room (the right room, the first one she went to held an elderly woman knitting who mistook the brunette for one of her grandchildren visiting. Not wanting to break the old woman's heart Rachel lied and said that she was one of the grandchildren but was going to the bathroom and would be right. She just hoped that the woman had alzhimers and would forget the whole encounter).

The first thing that she registered was the overwhelming amount of flowers covering every horizontal surface of the room and it brought a smile to her face. That smile was dulled, however, when her eyes landed on the blonde laid up in the hospital bed. Her pale complexion was nearly completely washed out by the white sheets covering her and the harsh fluorescent lighting beating down on her like an unforgiving microscope enlarging the frailty of her situation. To Rachel, it seemed as though the blonde was two dimensional, a paper punch out made up of sharp, harsh edges that you could cut yourself on if you weren't careful. Rachel always gets paper cuts.

She immediately perched gracefully on the edge of the unoccupied seat next to the bed. Quinn thought how absurd it was that Rachel could be that gracefully with seemingly no effort. It looked as though each step was choreographed and practiced to perfection. Though the motion was so mundane, it seemed monumental because of the brunette.

Puck cleared his throat after the two women had spent an adequately awkward amount of time just staring at each other and Rachel jumped a bit as she noticed the man sitting across from her for the first time. Her focus had been so intently on Quinn she didn't realize that there was anyone else in the room.

"Hi, you must be Puckerman." she said brightly, extending her hand across the air over Quinn's lap to cordially shake the man's.

Quinn smirked at the use of Puck's full last name and he refrained from correcting her, it wasn't that big of a deal and the last thing he wanted to do was draw attention from Quinn to himself, "Guilty as charged." he said meeting Rachel's hand halfway in a firm gesture.

"It's nice to meet you." Rachel said politely.

"And you as well." Quinn watched the conversation bounce back and forth in front of her like a tennis match until the awkward lull, "I had better be getting back to the station." Puck excused himself while getting up and retrieving his coat, "Don't get shot while I'm gone." he warned over his shoulder as he strolled out the door.

Rachel relaxed a bit now that it was just the two of them alone, "How are you feeling."

"Pretty numb actually." Quinn smiled, "Apparently the whole precinct was in here earlier harassing my doctors so they gave me plenty of drugs." she wiggled the fingers of her hurt hand uncoordinatedly as if to prove her point.

The brunette smiled softly at the motion, "Well that's good." She desperately wanted to ask what had happened but knew better, "How long are you going to be stuck in here?"

"Hopefully I'll be home tonight, they are just waiting on some test results." Quinn knew that the curiosity must be killing Rachel, but she was glad that the brunette didn't ask. She didn't think she was ready to relive that moment, "Thank you for coming, I know this has to be one of the most awkward first dates ever."

"You'd be surprised, this actually isn't the weirdest first date I've been on."

"I don't believe it."

"It's true!" Rachel loved the way that Quinn's eyes were so bright when she joked with the brunette. "It was a couple of months ago." she began while Quinn settled in for the story, "This girl from my Shakespearian class decided to set me up on a blind date. Just about everything that could go wrong did. First of all the girl apparently didn't know I was gay but I didn't know that she didn't know until the day before the date and I didn't have the heart to tell her so I just went with it."

"Wait, how did you not realize that you were being set up with a guy in the first place?" Quinn interjected.

"His name was Casey so I thought that he was a girl! Plus she never said 'he' when she was descibing him until the day before!" she blushed recalling the shock she had gotten when her friend told her that 'Casey was a really sweet guy'.

"Ok." the blonde said smirking.

"Anyway, he took me to a family reunion at a cabin. It was so awkward! Then somehow I got poison ivy AND poison oak, at the same time. I got lost in the woods after his evil cousins convinced me to play hide and seek with them. When he finally took me back to my apartment he tried to kiss me goodnight and I kind of snapped."

"Define snapped."

"I may or may not have told him that I just had one of the worst experiences of my life and that guys like him were the reason that I am gay." she said with a small smile, Rachel was clearly proud of herself.

Quinn laughed out loud, who knew the brunette had such a fire, "Yeah I'd say that you snapped a bit."

"Well either way, this is certainly not the worst first date I've ever been on."

Now that they had blundered their way through the awkward hospital greeting, they were able to continue on talking easily. As long as Rachel kept her gaze on the blonde's face, she found, she was fine. If she dared to let her eyes wander to the hospital gown, or the myriad of equiptment, she would feel her smile falter just the slightest bit. As long as she didn't look at it, she could pretend that they didn't exist. Pretend it was just the two of them sitting at an outside table at the cafe that Rachel had suggested they go to. In her mind, Rachel could see Quinn sitting across from her at the table wearing a simple dress with her blonde hair floating lazily in the breeze.

The illusion was broken, when a doctor came into give Quinn an update, "Officer Fabray," the doctor began, eyeing Rachel briefly before focusing on the chart in her hand, "We have the rest of your test results back and there seems to be no infection or anything else from the bullet. Once we check on the incision site and you meet with your physical therapist you will be free to go!"

"Thank you so much." Quinn said with a genuine smile, she knew how stressful it must have been for the doctor dealing with Puck and the rest of the officers.

"It was my pleasure." Rachel could have sworn that the doctor glared at her briefly before she exited the room, but she passed it off as her overactive imagination.

"So what are you studying at NYADA?" Quinn had heard of the school before and had even worked as security at a couple of its functions, the fact that the brunette went there only served to impress her even more.

"I'm a musical theater major. I want to be on Broadway one day." Rachel really did love the customary getting to know you questions that always came with first dates. She felt it was a good practice for when she is famous and gets interviewed someday, as well as she was truly interested in learning more about Quinn, she was still such an enigma. Just some sort of heroic figure that had swooped in one day to save her. It was still disconcerting to see that the blonde was human and could get hurt too, "How long have you been a police officer?"

"A few years." she said uncommitaly and Rachel thought of knights hiding behind their shining armor so when the princess looked closely all she would see was her own reflection staring back at her. Knights trust that princesses will get too wrapped up in their own smile to care.

"What's a few?" Rachel was one to get caught up in herself, but not when she could see a chink so clearly staring back at her.

"Three and a half years now I guess." Quinn volunteered, she could sense the gentle probing coming and relented to the inevitable.

"What made you want to become a cop?" the brunette curled her feet up underneath her and settled in.

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**So, hope you liked it. Not too much awkward hospital talk ;). Please leave a review, tell me what you thought, and have a great week!**

**Oh and in the last chapter someone asked if Quinn was in love with Puck. No that is not the case, I revised that bit so hopefully it is more clear!**


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm sorry, I know I made you wait a bit longer for this chapter. I realized that since this was intended to be a one-shot I had pretty much no back story so I'm working one out; Quinn's is going to probably be more elaborate and to show that anything in italics is a flashback in this chapter. To make up for my lateness I promise to get the next one up speedily! Hope you all enjoy and review as you feel compelled.**

**Quinn's POV**

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"What made you want to become a cop?" the question was far more complex than the brunette probably realized and Quinn thought over the best way to answer it. To get a bit of time, she grabbed the pale orange plastic cup of ice resting on her bedside table and shook a few chips into her mouth. The cold sensation of ice crunching between her teeth took her back to the night it all started.

_"Come on. It's just one joint." Carly insisted, shaking the smoking object at Quinn's hesitant face, "It's not a big deal." Quinn shivered as she thought it over. It wasn't the first time that someone had offered marijuana to her, but at sixteen, standing under the school bleachers at eleven at night, something felt different._

_"Just one." she echoed watching Carly blow an elegant smoke ring. Of course she knew that it was illegal and bad for your health and all that crap. But somehow seeing Carly with her sleek blonde hair framing her face, her black skinny jeans, and her J-Crew sweater, made the joint perched carelessly between her pouting pink lips seem harmless._

_A smile cracked the other blonde's face as she held it out for Quinn to take. For a second she just held it between her fingers, it felt benign and it was concerning how naturally it fit. She fully expected her first inhale to be interrupted by the hallmark lung heaving coughs of a new smoker, but as the smoke filled her virgin lungs, it felt comforting. She exhaled in a rush while Carly eyed her questioningly._

_"You've never done this before Q?"_

_"Never." she confirmed, taking another drag and letting the smoke sit for a moment in her lungs. Reveling in how deliciously wrong it felt._

Ice completely melted away in her mouth, Quinn had no choice but to answer Rachel's question, "I had to repay a debt to society." she finally decided on. It was the most honest answer she had given to anyone aside from Puck. Since moving to New York, he was the only one she trusted enough to tell, but she hadn't even given him the whole story. It was an untold tale and it sat locked away deep within Quinn. A book with no readers, a fairy tale with no ending.

Thankfully, Rachel didn't press the question, "Have you always lived in New York?"

"No, I moved here five years ago." Quinn crunched a new mouthful of ice. It reminded her of snow cones, of long summer walks in the park with her grandmother.

"Where did you live before?" Rachel's questions weren't too probing and Quinn was glad for the change from emotional to factual.

"Ohio." she noticed Rachel's eyes involuntarily dart to the bandage around her arm when she raised the cup to tip more ice into her mouth. Worry clouded the normally warm chocolate brown and it made Quinn guilty to cause Rachel to be concerned, "It doesn't hurt."

The brunette's eyes quickly me hers again and there was a slight blush as if she had just been caught staring at a deformity, "Oh, that's good."

It took all of two seconds for Quinn to convince herself to make the trade off and she offered Rachel the story of her injury in exchange for the story of her past, "I normally don't get shot."

"I should hope not." the matter of fact tone behind the singer's words brought a smile to Quinn's face and she was tempted to reply with a witty, 'thanks mom' but she refrained.

"They caught us off guard. Puck and I, we were just patrolling this neighborhood that's part of a known gang territory. They caught us in a crossfire and before I could even draw my weapon I was hit and Puck was dragging me behind a car. I don't think he shot any of them. It was all over pretty quickly actually. I think they backed off because they thought I was dead." The moment the last sentence was out of Quinn's mouth, she regretted it. Rachel's face darkened from her eyebrows down to her chin, the blonde knew she must be remembering the time between being told Quinn had been shot and being told she would be alright when she must have been imagining the worst.

"But I'm fine. It takes more than a couple of drug dealers to take down Quinn Fabray." She attempted a confident winning smile, but Rachel still seemed concerned.

"What provoked them in the first place?" her eyebrows were knitted together, and her confused gaze was on her intertwined fingers on her lap. She was toying with a ring on her thumb and, to Quinn, she looked absolutely adorable.

"It was my fault." at the admission of guilt, Rachel shot her a questioning look but before she could ask the obvious, Quinn answered, "I was working undercover to bring down a drug distributing gang. I guess my cover was blown. They spray painted 'snitch' on my car."

In reality, Quinn didn't know why she was telling Rachel all of this. It was the third time she had ever seen the girl, second time having a conversation. But she couldn't deny the insatiable need to tell her everything. As if she could express her feelings in personal stories and shared history instead of direct confrontation. It was irrational, it was irresponsible, it was against protocol, but more than any of that; it was inevitable.

Rachel didn't say anything, just kept twisting the ring on her thumb until the skin beneath it glowed an angry irritated red. Her eyes searched Quinn's face. For what, the blonde didn't know but she didn't seem to find it because she just kept silent and twisting that ring. Quinn was afraid she would twist her thumb right off so she reached out with her good arm and gently covered the brunette's hands with hers to still the movement.

Just the simple action of connecting her hand with the singer sent shockwaves through Quinn like it did the first time they touched in the subway, and again when their hands grazed outside of Rachel's apartment. The gesture was so simple yet so intimate. Quinn felt infinite; there were no words to describe the contentment she had just from sitting there staring into Rachel's concerned eyes and holding her hand. It was better than the slipper fitting and better than the first magic carpet ride. It was just so right.

Rachel's phone vibrated, bringing both of them back to the reality of Quinn laying in a hospital bed, her arm wrapped up like a macabre christmas present. The brunette checked the offending device and muttered the most adorable 'crap' that Quinn had ever heard under her breath.

"I've got to go, I have a modern dance class starting in fifteen minutes." Rachel said standing up and beginning to pull her brunette hair back into a bun, small, wispy, baby hairs escaping to stubbornly stand out.

"Oh, well thank you for coming to visit." Quinn wished she could get out of the bed but Rachel was already ready with her bag gathered.

"The pleasure was mine. We have to do this again, but next time not in a hospital."

"Ok, we can go to that cafe you were talking about."

"It's a date." Rachel's smile was wide and brilliant. Without hesitation she leaned down to give Quinn an awkward parting hug. When she pulled away, she dropped a feather light kiss on the blonde's cheek. She was at the door in a flash, bag pulled over her shoulder, ready to face the world, "Bye Quinn."

"Bye Rachel." the blonde was blushing and had what she was sure was the dopiest grin on her face. Quinn used to wonder why did fairy tales never paid attention to the prince's feelings. She would wonder why he didn't get any say in falling in love. But now it was abundantly clear to her; there was no choice. With a princess there wasn't a question of if or when the prince would fall for her, it was inevitable.

That's how Quinn felt at that moment watching the brunette disappear from her door. There was no question, she was hopelessly in love with a woman she barely knew, and it was magical.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I promised a quicker update and here it is, enjoy and review as you feel compelled. This is Rachel then Quinn's POV. Italics are flashbacks.**

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"Do you believe in true love?" Rachel was sprawled across the counter top, her legs taking up two barstools and she was idly tracing bubbly patterns on the back of a takeout menu with a purple pen.

"I do." Kurt replied from where he was collaging at the kitchen table. He had magazines spread in front of him in a heap of colored paper. With a pair of scissors in his hand he would survey his materials before swooping in like a bird of prey to pick out his next addition to the fashion spreads he was pasting together. "I guess the hospital date went well?"

Rachel had hardly gotten home from her last class and she was still high on the happiness Quinn's presence gave her, "It went _very_ well!"

"Good!" he said enthusiastically while carefully freeing a sweater from the model it was photographed on before pasting it onto his own ensemble.

Santana snorted from where she was- for some reason- chopping vegetables next to the sink. Since her last incident making dinners when she accidentally cut herself, Rachel had been hesitant to allow the Latina anywhere near sharp objects but she was stubborn and insisted on not being kept out of the kitchen. Her latest act of defiance was to make tacos for dinner. Santana was dicing tomatoes when Rachel shot her a questioning glare, "Do you have something to contribute Santana?"

Forcefully, the brunette sliced through the last red orb and dropped the knife safely onto the cutting board, "Yes Rachel, I do. You see I don't believe in true love. I think that what you and Quinn have is adorable and sickening but temporary."

"Oh don't be bitter just because you're lonely." Kurt chastised, never taking his eyes off his work.

Santana seemed unfazed and just continued, her gaze trained steadily on Rachel, "Soon enough the charm and appeal of a new relationship will wear off and you will grow bored of each other. True love is a fairy tale young children are told by burnt out adults who have given up on finding it themselves."

"Sometimes, Santana, I really pity you." Rachel said evenly then got up and left the apartment.

"Rachel come back here!" Kurt yelled, finally putting down his scissors and watching as the brunette's form retreated down the hallway, "Where are you going?"

"Out. I'll be back." she replied vaguely as she turned the corner and began lightly descending the steps.

When she hit the lobby, Rachel continued outside to the street and headed in the direction of the closest park. It was a few blocks away and pathetically small, but it had benches and green and whenever Rachel needed space, it reminded her of home. Halfway to the park she had the sinking realization that she left her cellphone at the apartment. Along with her pepperspray. Ever since her mugging in the subway, Rachel had been carrying pepper spray in her purse and walking with her keys between her fingers like claws in case of emergency.

She sucked it up and braved her way to the safety of the park and folded herself onto the first vacant bench she found. Rachel brought her feet up onto the bench and held her knees into her chest.

Santana couldn't be right about her and Quinn.

Her mind was running crazy imagining all the what ifs in life and the possible outcomes. Her mind jumped from happily ever afters to worst case scenarios in a matter of seconds and she found herself fixated on a spider web hidden on the corner of the bench. She thought of how delicately beautiful it was. How with one swipe of a hand it could be torn to pieces yet it had the ability to spell destruction for flies.

It reminded her of love and how flimsy it could be and yet how entrapping at the same time. She was caught up in Quinn's web and she wasn't quite sure yet if she was in danger.

* * *

_"Come on Quinnie! I've only had a couple of beers, I'll drop you off at home and everything will be alright." __Carly said, making a snatch for the keys held tightly in Quinn's fist._

_The blonde raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Really I can just drive you home Carly. It's not a big deal." _

_"Quinn." the older girl said silencing her with a finger to her lips, "I'm older, it's my car, I've driven home worse, give me my keys." Carly said with stone cold sobriety and Quinn found herself relenting and giving the keys to the senior._

_"But go slowly and be careful." Quinn warned, climbing into the passenger seat and buckling her seatbelt while Carly pushed the keys into the ignition and shifted into drive. For a while everything was fine, no mishaps, no swerving, no indication that something horrible was about to happen; then again, life isn't so forgiving with foreshadowing._

_The opening chords of an all too familiar song played through the ancient radio in Carly's car and the driver instantly brightened, "Sing with me Quinn!" she demanded._

_"Focus on your driving." she replied, one hand clutching the oh-shit handle attached above the window of the passenger door._

_"Sing Quinn!" her bright eyes landed on the younger blonde and her mouth was split into a wide smile._

_"Carly would you just- CARLY!" Quinn yelled and all sound faded away. She saw a large brown mass dart out in front of the car and felt her head hit the window as Carly swerved to the side to avoid hitting the deer. The car vibrated as it went off the road and into the ditch beside the road and Quinn prayed. _

_She prayed the car wouldn't roll, she prayed Carly would be alright, she prayed that the other girl would walk away from the crash, she prayed that it would all be over._

_And just as suddenly as it had started, it ended. The car screeched to a halt and all Quinn could register for a moment was that she was alive._

"CARLY!" Quinn screamed as she shot bolt upright in bed. Her hair was ratty and her heart was fluttering faster than she had ever felt before. The dream felt so real and she knew that it was. For five years now, Quinn had bee plagued by the same recurring dream.

A shaky, sweaty hand reached up to gently probe along Quinn's hair line. When her fingers came away dry and pale, she allowed herself to exhale a breath she didn't mean to hold in. Quinn pulled the covers tightly around herself as if she could use the blanket to hold herself together. Checking her phone, she saw that it was twelve thirty, she dialed the number she memorized long ago. While she waited for the line to be picked up, she did some quick mental math, it was five thirty in London.

But that never mattered. A groggy voice greeted her, and Quinn smiled. It sounded like home, "Quinn?"

"I had the dream again." she wasted no time in jumping into what was bothering her.

There was a sigh on the other end of the phone and Quinn heard what she though was 'I'll be back Robert.' before she was addressed again, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah just a bit shaken up."

"What do you think caused it? You've been doing so good lately."

Quinn knew exactly what caused it, and as reluctant as she was to tell, she knew it would come out eventually, "I got shot."

"What the hell Quinn! You got shot and didn't think to let me know?"

"I didn't want to make you worry." Quinn said in a meek voice.

"Well I'm worried now!" then quieter she hissed, 'No Robert, I'm fine.' but she soon refocused on Quinn, "How badly were you hurt?"

"It wasn't too bad. Puck was there and it was barely a scratch."

"Are you in the hospital? Do you need me to fly out? Have you told Mom?"

Quinn dropped her head into her palm and she felt tears beginning to prick the corners of her eyes, the loving concern was overwhelming after the years of living on her own, "No Frannie. I'm already at home. I really am fine."

Quinn's sister sighed and when she spoke again the angry protective tone was gone and it was replaced by exhaustion, "How could this have happened? Isn't Puck supposed to have your back?"

Through the years, Frannie was Quinn's only tie to her family and she was her closest confidant. When she graduated the police academy and secured herself in New York, she called her sister who lived in London with her husband Robert to explain everything.

That first time she called Frannie broke down in tears, her parents had just told her that Quinn had run away and they hadn't heard from her in two years. Everyone back home assumed that the young blonde would never be hear from again. She knew that Frannie probably told their parents everything but she didn't really care about what they thought anymore.

"He's the reason I'm alright, he pulled me out of there."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line and Quinn wondered if the connection had been lost, but before she removed the phone from her ear to see if the call had ended, her sister's voice was back soft and broken, "You know you can always come out here and live with Robert and me. I just hate you being all alone in New York."

It was an offer and a statement repeated every time Quinn called her sister and she had considered flying to London and living with them a few times but she knew that she never could do it. She didn't want to burden Frannie and she needed to prove to herself how she could take care of herself.

"I know Fran. I have to go, I'm due at the station in a couple of hours and I want to get a bit more sleep."

"Take care of yourself."

"I will." neither girl wanted to hang up first and break the small bubble of solace they had created, "Fran?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you sing me a lullaby?" Quinn's voice was small and adorable just like when they were girls and she would sneak into her sister's room to try to escape the monsters beneath her bed.

"Of course."

As her sister's soothing voice filled her ear, Quinn remembered watching Cinderella when they were younger and how she never liked how they portrayed the step sisters as evil. Her sister was her saving grace and her best friend. When they would play princess, Quinn would be Cinderella and Frannie would be the fairy godmother. Nothing much had changed.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N- I'm not even going to apologize for taking a full week to update this because I've had finals dang it! But here you go finally a new chapter, I hope you enjoy it. The beginning is from Quinn's perspective then sort of a mix of both of theirs. Also thanks to all the new readers I seem to be gaining, I love reading your encouraging comments, keep them coming!**

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Quinn tried to muster whatever confidence she could as she strode in the precinct. She felt the eyes on her and the innevitable whispers as she passed fellow officers. It wasn't out of the ordinary, more than a few times when she had been working at her desk and a cop would come in from an accident she would engage in the gossip and concerned pitying looks. She just hated it being directed at herself.

She held her head high and marched herself straight to the captains office, pausing to forcefully knock on the door. Simultaneously, Quinn raised her fist to the wood and kicked the bottom of the door three times to produce a loud sound: the chief of police didn't tolerate weak anything, not even door knocking.

"Enter." She heard from inside and she opened the door, taking care to pull it all the way shut after her. The last thing she needed was the entire precinct hearing her chewing out.

"Chief Sylvester." Quinn said, standing behind the chair in front of the sleek wooden desk. She had been chastised enough times to know better than to sit down or say anything more than the direct greeting.

"Sit." the blonde Chief of Police remained standing behind her desk, her arms were crossed and her posture just screamed disappointment, "Between you and Puckerman, you were the last one I would guess to get shot. What the hell happened?"

Quinn dropped heavily into the seat but kept herself perched on the edge with her back straight like she knew the Sylvester would demand, "We stopped the car on a street corner to do a quick walk around. After exiting, Puck and I continued a conversation from the car and before we knew it, a shot was fired in our direction. I was hit in the shoulder and went down, shots continued to come towards us and Puck dragged me to safety behind a car."

Chief Sylvester kept her arms crossed and her jaw clenched, "So you're just walking down the street and you got shot?"

"You know what they did to our car!" Quinn bristled, she was getting defensive and that was never a good thing.

"How the hell did you get found out?" Sylvester was not doing a good job of keeping herself contained either.

"How am I supposed to know?" She couldn't stand it when someone called her work into question. Ever since starting as a cop she felt at a disadvantage from her young age, her gender, her thin build, just about everything she knew put her behind and she resented it.

Sylvester clutched the back of her chair in a death grip, "We spent months getting you set up and infiltrating that gang. Fake backgrounds, arrest records, inside endorsements. I mean, do you have any idea how much work went into this?"

"Yes, I'm aware." Quinn said through clenched teeth, "I didn't screw this up. You've been supervising this operation from day zero, you know that this doesn't fall to me."

Uncharacteristically, Chief Sylvester dropped her shoulders and tiredly sat in her chair. She caught her head in her hands and released a sigh, "I know Fabray. This whole thing just concerns me. There is no way that something this serious could have happened with no prior rumblings from the gang. If someone were getting suspicious we would have heard _something_ from them."

Quinn allowed herself a sigh of relief as she realized that Sylvester indeed didn't blame her for anything. But she knew she couldn't be truly relieved because the weight behind Chief Sylvester's words was overpowering.

"You know what this means right?" The tall woman said from behind her desk, her head was out of her hands and she had pulled herself back up to her full height to regain some semblance of power. The Chief's lips were mashed together in a straight line and Quinn's stomach began churning at the notion of what was to come next.

"I sincerely hope that what I'm thinking is incorrect." was all Quinn managed to say.

Sylvester seemed to be thinking that same thing for her face softened for a moment before her features were quickly schooled back into her had steely mask, "We have a rat inside the precinct."

* * *

"Schwimmer, the next time you bend your knee on a turn I'm going to break it since you seem to have something against keeping it straight!" Cassandra July yelled and Rachel shuddered but kept soldering through the routine. She knew that it wasn't as big of an issue as the teacher was making it out to be but it seemed to be the best part of the blonde's day when she got to yell at Rachel.

When the music finally ended and the dancers stood waiting and breathing heavy for Ms. July to either dismiss them or make them do it again, Rachel's mind jumped to her plans for later that day. Quinn had called her earlier just before the class and asked her out to lunch at the cafe they had planned on going to before Quinn had gotten shot. The call had surprised her so much she actually jumped into the air in the hallway outside of the dance class. A few of her classmates gave her questioning looks and Ms. July didn't neglect to make multiple cracks about her being a rabbit or 'jumping for joy' during the lesson.

July checked her watch and with a grimace on her face finally dismissed the class, "Fine, I have another class in this studio but you all better practice and if I spot a single bent knee tomorrow, you'll be doing plies until you all get arthritis." she threatened as the dancers all scattered to grab their bags and get out of the room before she changed her mind.

Rachel was one of the first through the door and she practically sprinted out of the building to the subway, she already knew she would be a bit late to meeting Quinn and she didn't want to be even more behind. Thankfully the train pulled up just as she got on the platform and was speeding off towards the cafe in record time. Thankfully this was one carriage that never turned into a pumpkin- no matter how late you are running.

By the time she arrived, she allowed herself a moment of relief; she was only a few minutes late. Taking a quick look around, Rachel quickly spotted the blonde sitting at an outside table looking over a menu. When Rachel approached her, Quinn stood up automatically and without even thinking, greeted the dancer with a hug. It was just the natural thing to do, though they had only known each other a couple of weeks, it felt like a reunion of two old friends.

"Sorry I'm late," Rachel apologized, taking her seat and dropping her bag under the table, "My evil teacher made us run the same routine over and over again even though it was flawless the first time. I swear that woman just has it out for students."

Quinn smiled, the brunette's hair was escaping from a classic dancer's bun and her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was wearing a cut sweatshirt and a pair of soffee shorts over her leotard and tights and Quinn thought that she was downright adorable complaining about the teacher, "It's fine trust me. I've got nothing important to do for the next couple of weeks, I've been officially sentenced to desk duty."

"Oh, well it may turn out better than you think." Rachel suggested trying to stay positive, when Quinn grimaced she decided to switch tactics, "Are all of the other cops quite as eccentric as Noah?"

Internally the blonde blanched at the question. Ever since her meeting with Chief Sylvester, Quinn had been trying to keep from thinking that one of her fellow officers could actually have given up her identity to the gang. She thought for sure that going out with Rachel would take her mind off of it, but within the first few minutes the topic had come up. Quinn pushed away the churning feeling in her stomach, "No, they aren't."

Rachel was very observant and she noticed the guarded way Quinn answered that question and the seemingly forced smile on the blonde's face. A waiter came by to take their orders and Rachel had the foresight to change topics once he left, "So tell me about Quinn before you became a cop. You said that you were from Ohio?"

"Yeah I lived there until I was seventeen." she began explaining, "During my junior year of high school I dropped out and pooled all my savings to buy a ticket to New York. Once I got here I earned my GED and worked a few odd jobs until I was accepted to the academy. I've been an officer ever since."

Rachel didn't quite know it the answer surprised her. Quinn was so independent and strong that she was the one person the brunette would believe could make it on her own in New York as a teenager, but it hurt her to think of how difficult and lonely it must have been for her, "Wow, that is amazing."

Quinn snorted, "I guess that's one way to describe it." the blonde recalled everything Frannie had said the first time she called, she remembered her sister telling her she had lost her mind, made the biggest mistake of her life, was in over her head. Never once had the word 'amazing' come up unless it was to define the magnitude of stupidity that must have struck Quinn.

As their date progressed, Quinn learned all about Rachel growing up in Indiana with her fathers. They shared stories and laughter and neither one seemed to notice as time flew by. Eventually, the date came to an end and Quinn walked Rachel down to the subway stop.

"This has been great." Rachel said when they paused outside the subway to go their separate ways.

"Much better than the first date." Quinn agreed.

"We'll do this again soon?"

"Of course."

When Quinn pulled the brunette into a quick hug, she knew there was a dopey smile gracing her features. It seemed to be a permanent by-product of spending time with Rachel. She closed her eyes briefly and let Rachel's perfume overpower her, she tried to memorize everything about the moment. When they broke apart Quinn lightly put her hands on the brunette's shoulders and leant down to give her a quick gentle kiss. It was as innocent and unsure and sweet as the 'fist kisses' of middle schoolers, learning to love for the first time in their lives.

Rachel's smile was the widest she ever had, "Ok, um bye!"

"Bye." Quinn replied with a matching smile. She turned to leave but before she could, her wrist was caught and she was spun around by Rachel who pulled her in for another quick kiss.

"Bye!" the brunette said and she ducked her head as she started off down the steps to the subway.

"Bye." Quinn breathlessly whispered, Rachel was already too far away to hear. It didn't matter, she knew it was only bye for a short time.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N- So this one is mainly from Quinn's POV and jumps a bit. I also used an idea from an amazing reader so thanks for that one, you know who you are! Thanks for reading and your continued support of this story! P.S. This chapter is longer than normal so be grateful. ;)**

* * *

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what now?" Quinn asked. She was hot, she was tired, and she was hungary. It wasn't a pleasant combination.

"Just be bait for a few weeks until we figure this out." Chief Sylvester repeated, "There's no way that we're going to be able to catch whoever it is unless they try again and they're not going to try again unless we get you back out there."

The two of them had been sitting in the Chief's office for the last couple of hours and had hardly gotten anywhere. Everyday for the past week after everyone else in the precinct would go home, the two would meet in the office and run through their current project of finding their rat. Tonight it was nearly ten and they hadn't made any progress since the previous day.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" the proposal made sense, however crazy it sounded.

"You're going back undercover. Same gang, different neighborhood, same contact, same cover story, new rap sheet." Sylvester said, listing things off while jotting them down on the white board they had wheeled into the office.

"How are they going to trust me again?" Quinn had heard horror stories of cops going back after their cover had already been blown. It never ended well.

At that question Sylvester paused, she put the end of her pen in between her teeth and thought for a moment, "Your original contact, Chewy, he would trust you with his life. He's our way in."

Quinn nodded, it was true. The guy was creepy as hell, but he had trusted her without a doubt from day one, "Right, it would be easy to sell him a story about getting hassled by Puck and how he picked me up and took me to the street corner where I got shot. He would pass it up the chain, it would get to the rat, who would then order another hit and we could catch him in the act!"

"Precisely!"

"Alright, lets do it."

Quinn agreed. The plan was crazy but she knew the risks. She also knew what was at risk if they didn't do this. The issue with a rat in the police department was bigger than just Quinn's undercover operation, it put everyone at risk and lead to the possibility of any future cases being tainted. She knew there was a fine line between doing her job and putting herself in unnecessary danger; she just always had problems finding that line.

"Now you can't talk to anyone about this. Obviously." Sylvester began gathering the files that littered her desk, "You can go for tonight, tomorrow we'll start planning for you going back."

* * *

Quinn was pacing in the hallway outside the door to an apartment. The door was nothing special and blended in with all the others in the hall, and she knew that inside the apartment was slightly cluttered with takeout boxes, magazines, and dirty clothes strewn haphazardly. Quinn knew she shouldn't be doing what she was, but she just couldn't stop herself. There wasn't anyone else that she could trust who would react without simply trying to talk her out of it. She stopped her pacing and squared her shoulders one firm knock on the door and the decision was made. It only took a few seconds of waiting before the door was thrown open and Puck appeared on the other side, his hair and clothes slightly rumpled from sleep but his eyes were alert.

"I'm going back undercover." Quinn said without even wasting time on customary greetings. Puck stood to the side and allowed her to enter his apartment.

He turned to her once he had the door securely closed and locked- he had installed a deadbolt when he moved in, "I knew this was going to happen and as your partner I have two things to say. First, that is the single most stupid decision I've ever heard, I mean do you have any regard for your own life after I worked so hard to save it? And second, I'm here to do whatever you need me to. I've got you're back."

"I know you do."

Puck could see her shaking slightly and knew that it had nothing to do with the weather, she was nervous about the operation but was far too strong to ever admit it. He pulled her into a comforting hug, ever since they had started working together he felt the need to protect the blonde. She reminded him of his younger sister he had left behind in New Jersey, she was in college now studying to be a doctor and he couldn't be more proud of her. But when he say Quinn so vulnerable and unsure, it brought back memories of protecting his sister on the streets of their neighborhood.

When the stepped back he saw her square her shoulders and strengthen her jaw. "Thank you Puck."

"Any time." he replied unnecessarily, it wasn't the first time the blonde had shown up to his apartment in the middle of the night and he knew it wouldn't be the last. She undid the slightly ridiculous amount of locks adorning his front door and prepared for the trek back to her apartment. Puck would offer to walk her home as he always used to, but he knew she would turn him down like she always did. She only ever showed weakness behind closed doors, and he knew how hard it was for her to become close enough to trust him with her emotions.

"Quinn." he called out before she had gotten too far down the hall. She paused and turned back to him with an eyebrow raised, "Thank you, for telling me. I imagine chief Sylvester must have told you to keep it quiet."

She nodded, of course she shouldn't have told him. They still hadn't officially ruled him out as the rat but Quinn never had any doubts he was innocent, "Any time."

* * *

Quinn walked across the grass on the East campus of NYADA, two warm paper cups in hand and for a moment she was overtaken with the beauty of the day. There were students lounging on the grass beneath trees music seemed to be drifting from all directions, from the open windows of dance studios in the building that enclosed the quad, from the groups of students listening to radios, from the very air itself. While she stood there, she felt like a prisoner being let out in the fresh air for the last time before they were sent to their execution.

It was a morbid thought, she knew, but she couldn't suppress the doom she had felt ever since Sylvester had told her she was going back undercover. That feeling was what motivated her to make the spontaneous trek to NYADA and find Rachel. She had talked to the brunette earlier and she was extremely stressed about an audition she had for some sort of showcase at the school and didn't think she would have time to get away and meet Quinn for lunch, so she took matters into her own hands.

After getting home from talking to Puck, it was nearly two in the morning and she couldn't sleep so she called one of her contacts who was extremely good at hacking and cashed in a favor to have him get Kurt's phone number for him. She texted the boy, swearing him to secrecy and begging him to get her Rachel's schedule. Now with the photo he sent her in hand, Quinn wandered her way into the large imposing building that someone had pointed her to.

The ceilings were high and large windows along the hall let in natural light which gave the whole building a warm glow. Now she just needed to locate the correct studio, there was still a few minutes until the class ended.

A tall muscular boy stepped out of a room just down the hall from Quinn and she walked over to him, "Hello, can you point me in the direction of studio 4 B?"

He smiled kindly, "I can walk you there. What are you doing looking for the witch's lair?"

He seemed nice enough and he took the time to walk her all the way to the room so Quinn went ahead and indulged him, "I'm just picking someone up, is the teacher really that bad?"

Just as the question left her mouth, a door ahead of them burst open and a tall redheaded girl ran through it, tears were streaming down her cheeks and her face was flushed red.

"Anyone else want to join Ginger!? By all means if you want to leave now is the time!" a harsh voice yelled from within the room.

"Does that answer your question?" he smiled, the redhead was halfway down the hall before she bent over and held her knees with her hands, "Lauren? It's alright hon, July is just a bitch." he smiled sympathetically at Quinn before jogging down the hall to the girl. He placed a reassuring hand on her back and rubbed circles.

Quinn was concerned for Rachel being in a class like that, but she settled into a bench in the hall outside the room with her legs crossed indian style beneath her. She took a sip of her drink and checked her watch, there was still a few minutes left before the class was over. Through the still open door, she could hear the music blaring from a speaker and a woman yelling. Occasionally she would see dancers fly past the open door in part of the routine and she caught a few glimpses of Rachel. The brunette was wearing a simple black leotard with a pink skirt. After a few minutes, a blonde woman with a black cane walked past the door and saw Quinn sitting on the bench. She frowned and approached the door, Quinn for her part just sat tight and got a tighter grip on the cups.

"Are you spying on my class?" the woman asked as she drew nearer.

"No. I'm just waiting for it to be over." she said innocently enough, Quinn even finished it off with a sip of her coffee as if to punctuate her statement.

The blonde teacher gave her a calculated glare before returning to her studio and smacking the stereo with her cane to shut off the music, "Class dismissed!" she barked, then stood at the door to continue watching Quinn as the dancers scattered to grab their bags.

One by one the they filled out of the room until finally Rachel emerged, her face instantly lit up upon seeing the blonde, "Quinn! I told you I didn't have time for lunch today."

"I know, I just really wanted to see you." she stood up and hugged the brunette, taking her bag from her shoulder and handing her the cup she brought the dancer in the process.

"Chai tea?" Rachel asked taking a sniff of the cup.

"Of course."

The brunette smiled and took a sip. "Thank you." the whole time, Rachel could feel her teacher's eyes on them.

"Anytime, do you have time for a quick walk before your next class?"

"For you? Always." She took Quinn's hand and led her down the hall out of the building.


End file.
